


El Lay:  No Stars

by Dillian



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Bad Manners, Classic Ferraris, Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, Gratuitous Partying, Kissing, M/M, One-Shots, Vodka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-19
Updated: 2012-09-19
Packaged: 2017-11-14 13:53:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/515910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dillian/pseuds/Dillian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drinks were being had.  Women were being pleased.  And Tony fucking Stark was being charming.  Basically your standard recipe for a really good time for all...</p>
<p>Right when the party's going horribly awry, a green-eyed stranger shows up and takes Tony someplace where he can have some <i>fun</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	El Lay:  No Stars

**I do not own this, not the movie, not the characters, not Tony's douchebag-charms or that furtive little smile Loki gets right after he's screwed someone over just right. ...On the other hand, Marvel doesn't object when I use their characters for my own perverted uses, so I guess it balances out okay.**

 

He was ...maybe a little drunk. So what, so you want to make something of it? I mean shit, he's fucking _Tony Stark_. He's got a lot on his mind, a lot of people depending on him. So he likes to relax a little sometimes. He's got a right. What the fuck business is it of yours? So yeah, he was a little drunk. ...Or a lot drunk, maybe; how do you measure these things, anyway? He was having some fun for a change, at any rate. Drinks were being had. Women were being pleased. And Tony fucking Stark was being charming. Basically your standard recipe for a really good time for all.

And Tony's got a martini in one hand. He's got a blonde in the other. He's got a cigarette in the third... Oh yeah, right: Only two hands. That's got to be the next mod he gives to the suit. So let's start over: He's got the martini in his right hand, he's got the blonde in the left. Maybe if she holds the cigarette for him, just while he's kissing her. Then she can put it back in his mouth.

She's not the sexiest chick he's ever picked up. Kind of horse-y around the face, she's also kind of cow-y around the butt. Shit, this isn't a woman, it's a barnyard wrapped up in a cheap Donna Karan knockoff.

...And he maybe said that out loud. Oh fuck. Well a minute later, some guy's picking him up off the floor. He has this vague impression of green eyes and a thin, amused smile. He's seen this guy somewhere before, he thinks, but it's hard to know for sure when his face keeps blurring into two like that.

“Care for a drive, Tony Stark?”

He tells the guy: “I've seen you someplace before.” He gets this dark laugh in return, like, “oh yeah, maybe you were in hell the same time I was. – Maybe we share our own private hell.”

“Whatever your name is, I'd share anything with you,” Tony tells him.

What they do share is a convertible: A sweet little 61 California Spyder: V12 engine, 250 horses under the hood. Tony's got to be a lot more than stinking drunk before he doesn't appreciate good tech. Solid black, gleaming chrome, its green leather upholstery as soft as a baby's ass. Crazy thing is, once he's in, he's got no problem snuggling close to the guy in the driver's seat, maybe because he's too drunk to sit upright.

There's champagne. It sparkles like the fucking stars. – Wait, are there stars? Oh yeah right: El Lay. No stars. – It sparkles like the crazy light in his green-eyed friend's eyes... That matches the crazy light inside himself that's saying, “go for it, Tony. You know you want to.”

Good rule: Always do what the little voices tell you. Tony goes for it. Just for a second, he thinks the other guy's going to hit him, but then he's kissing him back. They kiss in a parked Ferrari Spyder, under the red, Los Angeles night-sky. Then he's the one that invites the other guy back to his place, because what's he supposed to do? Knowing this guy, he probably shares a place with an alien cyborg-monster or something.

Long, long, long time later: Nightcaps are had. Vodka, and some other shit he finds around the house. One of them's talking about his daddy issues, and the other one is listening, but he's not sure which one's doing which. There's a bed, but it only spins when he's not holding onto his new friend, so that's okay. And Tony thinks – Okay, maybe he's pretty sure. – that he takes it up the ass a few times before morning.

A night like that calls for more than Earthly hangover remedies. Thor gives him the recipe for something Asgardian. – And he doesn't want to hear about his brother being Tony's ass-guardian all night long. “My brother is being punished,” he says primly. “Father said it was so.” Yeah right. You keep thinking that, big guy. Just because a guy's blind-drunk doesn't mean he can't see what's right in front of his eyes. But never mind that, there'll be plenty of time to catch Loki after he's ready to be caught.


End file.
